


Hush

by halotolerant



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Library Sex, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Public Blow Jobs, Quiet Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant/pseuds/halotolerant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gotta be quiet,” Will murmurs, and it’s just visible in the dim light here in the corner of the stacks, the redness of his swollen lips, the glint of them. “After all, Dr Lecter, it is a library.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norfolkdumpling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norfolkdumpling/gifts).



> For **norfolkdumpling** 's prompt of: _I just saw a photo of the George Peabody library in Baltimore, and now I can't stop thinking about Hannigram getting distracted from some handwavy research on an upper floor and trying (failing) to be quiet... ;)_

“Uh uh, no,” Will says in a dark whisper, and draws away. 

 

Draws away, away from where he’s been occupied, head tilting back, saliva trailing from his mouth. 

 

“Gotta be quiet,” that mouth murmurs, and it’s just visible in the dim light here in the corner of the stacks, the redness of his swollen lips, the glint of them. “After all, Dr Lecter, it is a library.”

 

Hannibal’s learnt, after three months together, that ‘Dr Lecter’ said in that tone of voice augurs nothing so much as him ending up helplessly undignified and horrifyingly happy about it. He could - ought to - step away now, zip up his trousers and return the books to the shelves and walk out of here, out onto the streets. It’s not safe to be here in Baltimore, not back in the heart of where he once killed. 

 

Walking down these streets, his feet should leave a trail of blood. 

 

“Shhhh, carefully now,” Will says again, like he knows exactly what’s in his mind and exactly how much better it makes this. He’s looking up from his position on his knees, and only once he’s stared at Hannibal a while, until he’s seen whatever he’s looking for, does he lick his lips and leans back in. 

 

Hannibal puts his hands to Will’s head, carding through his curls without quite intending to. More hair, now, to hold onto, than there was the first time - oh, the first time, he absolutely can’t think about that, not…

 

Hannibal is in control of the noises that come from him, always has been and always shall be, but perhaps it is fair to say that exerting that control requires an increasingly high toll on his resources whenever Will is involved, and that Will depletes said resources at an alarming rate, and knows it, and smirks about it and seems to be intent on practising until one of them dies. 

 

It is more than Hannibal dared to dream of, and more than he thought he’d ever get. 

 

Head flung back now against a shelf of important survivals in 1810s astronomy, Hannibal feels his heart pound and his vision blur, and bites his lip, and doesn’t think about falling apart, falling over, all the books in the whole library going down like dominoes and still not half the fall he’s fallen, in every way, with Will Graham. 

 

Will is sucking his cock slowly, lushly, tongue taking due care and attention around the base of the head. Will has one hand palming at Hannibal’s behind, a steady and regular press that promises more, and Will’s palm is hot and slightly damp with desire even through Hannibal’s trouser fabric and…

 

Will is so hard in his own trousers, Hannibal can see, and all of his desires are thick and real, so delightfully incredibly real, and it flows between them like honey. When Will looks up his eyes are dark - for a moment Hannibal sees them black, all black, like grapes, like marble, iridescent, inhuman, and his legs tremble and Will spanks him once, hard and sharp and fast, and Hannibal wants something to be pushed inside him, how, how was that a hunger he never knew till now?

 

“Shhhhhh,” Will murmurs around Hannibal’s cock, almost laughing, and it’s so wet, drool and other things falling to the marble floor between them, splashing, obscene, rude, and Hannibal doesn’t, can’t, won’t care. 

 

He feels the slick-smooth muscle give where his cock is distending Will’s cheeks with each thrust, feels for the newly-healed scar and…

 

…oh the first time, the first time, Will with the bandage for that wound still on his face, thin with the effort of healing and lined with the stress of how they were trying to guess at learning each other, Will leaning into him finally, freely, truly, saying ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘i want’ and ‘i do want’ and then, laughing, fond, ‘oh dr lecter’ and finally, at the end, breathless, sightless, ‘hannibal!’…

 

Hannibal shifts all his weight to one foot, toes off his shoe, and lifts his foot to press between Will’s legs. Will gasps - around Hannibal’s cock, which may end him - and shifts his knees further apart. One of his hands moves to grip Hannibal’s, hot and strong and needing. 

 

A grasp for balance, and Hannibal is here, Hannibal is right here, ready. 

 

Hannibal’s socked foot explores the bulge in Will’s trousers. He feels the hard press of it under the tender curve of his arch, along the ridge of his toes. He lets his toes wiggle, and Will sucks even harder and makes the loudest sound either of them has. 

 

“Shh,” Hannibal reminds him, letting his voice rumble. 

 

It’s a fight, always, this. Which is to say that is it a game, which is to say that it is a companionship, which is to say that it’s love. 

 

Will, eyes blazing, raises an eyebrow in challenge and swallows him down whole. 

 

Hannibal’s mouth is full of blood, the price of control. He wants to spit it in Will’s face, the idea makes his balls tighten and rise, but that might be too hard to conceal on the way out of the building. 

 

When he’s come down Will’s throat though, he leans in, curling down to meet Will's mouth with his own, and blood and sex mingle between their tongues even as Will jerks and trembles under Hannibal’s foot, his cock twitching and eagerly pressing. 

 

After only brief seconds of this, though, Hannibal pulls away and stands up properly, adjusting his trousers and tucking himself back in, tidying up. 

 

He manages a press of his finger to Will’s protesting lips that is almost not shaking at all. 

 

“Shhh,” Hannibal reminds him. “After all, Mr Graham, it is a library.”

 

Will bites his finger hard enough to break the skin. Hannibal maybe comes just a little more, enough to stain his pants. 

 

It’s a good day. 

 


End file.
